


Yeah, Sammy

by Demetria



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, First Time, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demetria/pseuds/Demetria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean will always give his brother what he needs.  He's not sure he knows how to say "no" to Sam, but he is sure that right now, he doesn't want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, Sammy

At this rate, they’ll be stuck alone in Flagstaff for Christmas.  Dean sighs as he hangs up the phone, conversation with Dad over in record time.  While he wishes he were out there too, hunting, at least he’s got Sam with him for the holiday break.  That is, if the kid ever gets out of the damn shower.  He’s been gone for an hour and although this apartment is a pretty cushy place to crash, there’s still not a lot to do.  There’s not even porn available on the TV.

He finds himself banging on the bathroom door.  “Come on kiddo, quit choking the chicken and let’s go out for dinner or something.”

The door is pulled open, and Dean nearly falls inside the bathroom, held up only by the surprisingly solid chest of his teenage brother.

The damp, warm, muscled, **naked** chest.

“Dean,” sighs Sam, as Dean flails himself upright.

“Jesus, dude, put some clothes on, wouldya?”  Dean is very carefully not thinking about how much he wants to lick the droplet of water that is winding it’s way down one of Sam’s pecs.

“Yeah, yeah, need to grab some clean stuff first.”  Sam puts both hands on Dean’s shoulders and steers him backwards out of the doorway.  Another thing Dean is very carefully not thinking about is the size of those hands, the obvious strength displayed as Sam casually manhandles him.  He can’t control his breathing though, and his sudden inhalation sounds more like a gasp.

Sam stills, and then his thumbs rub against the jut of Dean’s collarbones where they show through his tee shirt.  “Dean,” he mutters, his voice a lot deeper than Dean remembers.

There’s a second when Dean’s inappropriate arousal manages to overrule his common sense, and so he closes his eyes and swallows hard even as his own hands come up to cover Sammy’s, caressing just a little.

He just meant to touch, just for a second, just so he wouldn’t put his mouth to the lines of muscled torso in front of him.

There’s a sigh, and it’s not Dean breathing heavy now.  Sam leans in, and then, fuck, that’s his soft mouth pressing against Dean’s lips, his tongue pushing…

“Woah, hey,” Dean panics and pushes Sam away.  “Cut it out, dude.  What the fuck?  That’s not… appropriate.”

There’s a moment of silence, when Dean can’t quite look at his brother and yet can’t walk away.

“I get it,” Sam says.  “I’m just, just a kid to you, I know.  But damn it, Dean, trust me for once, okay?  I know that I want this.  I know that I **need** you.  Please…”

He’s just standing there, towel wrapped around his waist, dripping water onto the linoleum.  “Dean,” he says hesitantly, like he can hear the frightful roaring noise inside Dean’s head.  His little brother, skin still damp and nipples pebbling in the cool air, looks like jailbait.  But, hell, Dean is willing to risk jail, risk anything if it means giving Sam what he needs.  This is fucked up; he knows it, but what part of their life isn’t?  Dean will always give his brother what he needs.  He's not sure he knows how to say "no" to Sam, but he is sure that right now, he doesn't want to.

And with that realization, he raises a hand to the towel at Sam’s waist, pulls at it, drops it, and then his little brother is fully naked before him.

“Tell me what you need, Sammy,” he says, meeting that hazel gaze with an equally heated one of his own.  “You need me to touch you?”

“Fuck yes, please, Dean,” breathes his brother.  Sam’s tongue darts out to moisten his bottom lip, and that’s it, Dean is done waiting. 

They’re kissing, slowly at first but there’s no way that Dean can manage patience now.  The taste of Sam is leaving him breathless, and he can’t stop licking into that perfect mouth.  Dean’s hands cup Sam’s cheeks, stroke his hair, pull him in by the neck as they kiss, but it’s not enough, Sam deserves more.  He presses their bodies together, slotting his leg between Sam’s and suddenly all he can feel is the hardness that is Sam’s erection, slowly riding the ridge of Dean’s thigh muscle.

“Oh, god, Dean,” Sam stutters and grinds against him.  Dean feels like he’s about to spontaneously combust.  He pulls Sam out of the doorway, pushes him back against the wall of the tiny dinette and then drops to his knees.

As he sucks the head of Sam’s ever-hardening dick into his mouth, all Dean can think about is how good it feels, and how good Sam sounds.  A flurry of moans and curses is ringing out above him, and Dean takes a second to look up at his brother from beneath his eyelashes before he swallows him down.  Huh, deep-throating isn’t as hard as he’d expected.  But, oh, Sam is still getting harder and, oh fuck, it’s hard to breathe… Dean pulls back, that beautiful long cock leaving his mouth with a wet sound that he can hear even over Sam’s moaning.  He takes a couple of breaths, and then starts to lick again.

Hands clutch at the back of his head as Sam jerks his hips forward, and Dean just tries to take it, his baby brother fucking his face like he just can’t help himself.

“Dean, please,” Sam moans.

“Yeah, Sammy,” he tries to say, but it’s muffled by that mouthful of dick.

Sam stops moving, pulls Dean away from his groin.  “Dean, I want you to fuck me.”

If Dean wasn’t achingly hard before, he is now.  But there’s no way that this isn’t Sammy’s first time, and so Dean is pretty sure he has a better idea.  He stands up, draws Sam in for another kiss, and then drawls into his ear, “Sorry baby boy, but you’re gonna have to fuck me first.”

Sam’s entire body shudders, and Dean smiles smugly, before he turns and disappears into the nearby bedroom.

“DEAN!” Sam’s cry chases after him, and Dean can’t help but laugh a little.  He’s shedding clothes even as he grabs a bottle of lube from his dufflebag.  By the time Sam has pulled himself together enough to darken the doorway, Dean is already on his way back out, handing the lube to Sam with a smirk.  Shirtless, shoeless, he leads his brother into the main room where an overstuffed couch, clad in blue- and white-checkered fabric, awaits.

With a shove, he makes sure Sam is seated so that he has a good view of what’s about to happen.  After toeing off his socks, Dean slowly undoes his belt and draws it through the loops on his jeans.  Sam is slowly fisting his cock as he watches, a beautiful pink flush rising through his chest and neck.  With all the finesse of long practice, Dean writhes out of his jeans, pushing them away before tucking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“You sure about this, Sam?” he says, his voice a little hoarse with desire.

“Fuck, yes, Dean, please.”  His hand moves faster over his dick, which is glistening with lube, and Dean can’t believe he missed Sam opening the bottle already.

Teasing time is over, so Dean removes his boxers in a rush before climbing onto the sofa to kiss Sam again.  He rubs his own hand against Sam’s dick, smiling as he feels his brother thrust up against his fist.  “Mmm yeah, Sammy, that’s good. Get my fingers wet, gonna open myself up for you.”

He lies back until his head is propped against the armrest, splays his legs open, watches Sam watching him as he tilts his hips up and slides one thickly lubed finger into his ass.  He presses gently at first, until the second ring of puckered muscle opens up and from there it’s easy.  This ain’t his first rodeo, but damn if it isn’t the best – Sam’s lustful gaze is heating him through and opening him up.

His brother watches, mouth just slightly ajar, as Dean fingers himself until he’s loose and open and wanting.  “Okay, Sammy,” he says, finally, breathlessly, “Come here and fuck me.”

Sam is all over him before he can blink.  With one hand, he eases that long, rosy cock into Dean, and that first push in makes Dean’s eyes roll back in his head.  When he’s in, he stops moving, letting Dean adjust.

Dean doesn’t need the pause.  He feels like this is where Sam’s meant to be, like it’s always been leading to this, like he never wants it to end.  “Move, Sammy.  Fuck me, now.”

And oh god, but Sammy does.

Dean can’t take his eyes off Sam’s face.  His brother’s mouth is open, tongue just barely visible, and his eyes keep fluttering closed.  He’s beautiful, especially like this with that pink flush brightening his cheeks, and his dark hair flopping about unheeded.

His brother leans in, captures Dean’s mouth in a desperate kiss, and the sound it makes when his wet lips pull away causes Dean to closes his eyes, trying to regain some control over his impending orgasm.  He can’t stop jerking his cock, though, and when Sam’s face lowers again, this time so that he can run those wet lips up Dean’s neck, something like a groan forces it’s way out of Dean’s mouth.  Sam is panting, nuzzling against Dean’s neck and chest occasionally, and his hips don’t stop moving.  He keeps lifting his gaze to Dean’s face, and every time they make eye contact, Dean has to breathe out heavily.

He feels like a slut, lying on his back, one leg hooked over the back of this shabby old couch while the other is splayed open as wide as he can reach.  His little brother’s not-so-little dick is sheathed inside him, and the sensation of it sliding back and forth is driving a stream of pre-come from Dean’s cock.  He can feel it dripping hot into the cavity of his abdomen as he tilts his hips up towards Sam’s sweltering body.

For a brief second, Sam’s thrusting slows, and Dean wonders if he’s having as trouble holding back too.  He can’t help but kiss the tip of Sam’s nose, carefully, lovingly.  They are pressed forehead to forehead, and now Sam’s panting directly into Dean’s open mouth.

A stifled moan fights its way past Dean’s lips as he feels his balls tighten, and another dribble of pre-come pools on his skin.  The sound clearly has an effect on Sam, who presses forward until they are chest-to-chest, rests his head on the curve of Dean’s shoulder, and fucks into him even harder.

“God, Sammy,” Dean breathes as all he can do is take it.  “Wait, I have an idea.”  He twists the fingers of his hand in Sam’s hair, pulls him back just a little.  “Lie on your back, Sam.”

In one of those moments of perfect synchronicity, Sam is already moving, sitting back on his haunches as Dean shuffles upright, before laying back against the other arm of the couch, in a mirror image of Dean’s previous position.

Dean takes a second to admire the lean, toned body stretched out in front of him, helplessly jacking his cock with one hand.  He knows he’s one lucky son of a bitch, because he gets this.  Sam, his Sammy, so beautiful and wanton, and all his.

He moves in, cups Sam’s face with one hand as he presses their mouths together.   Dean bites Sam’s earlobe lightly, and smiles as his brother’s eyes shut. They stay closed as Dean slides a hand down the warm muscled side of Sam’s torso, wraps it around Sam’s dick.  With a grace he hadn’t realized he possessed, Dean curves his body forward and up, slides Sam’s dick back past his thigh and presses it against his ass.  They groan simultaneous as Dean sinks down, his asshole opening easily for Sam’s hard, hot length.

With one hand braced on the armrest by Sam’s ear, one foot flat on the couch cushions and the other on the floor, Dean strokes his cock as Sam thrusts up into him, and it feels perfect.  He has to remind himself to breathe as he feels that rising wave of pleasure.

“Oh yeah,” says Dean, moving his hand faster.

“Yeah?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” and Dean closes his eyes as Sam’s huge left hand comes up to stroke his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest.  That touch, gentle and warm, brings him over the edge, and he spurts onto Sam’s slim chest, forces himself to look down and watch as he paints that tanned stretch of skin with his thick white come.

Sam fucks harder into Dean, then tilts his head back and wails, fucking wails, as he comes too, pouring his release into Dean’s ass.  His hips won’t stop jerking though, and his dick slides free, grinds against Dean’s ass, nudges Dean’s balls, and just generally makes a mess everywhere.  They kiss again, and Dean thinks he could be happy if they never stopped.

When he finally pulls back, Dean can’t stop looking at his brother.  Those pink cheeks, glazed eyes, wet lips – he looks wrecked, and Dean did that to him.  Sam’s hand covers Dean’s where it’s braced on the couch, and Dean rubs the tip of his dick through the mess on Sam’s chest as he pushes his hips downwards.

“Oh, uh,” Sam groans, rolling his head from side to side, “Sensitive now, fuck, Dean!”

“You love it, dude, and you know it.”  Dean is smiling, and it draws a mirroring smile from Sam.

“I love you,” the kid mutters, looking down, suddenly shy.  “You know that right, Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot ficlet is dedicated to yeahsammy.tumblr.com for reblogging a vid that I haven't been able to stop thinking about for the past month. Thanks, Katie!


End file.
